Golden
by comptine
Summary: Ivan had only said it was going to be a diplomatic meeting, nothing more. slight-PWP Germany/Russia


This story is, in a word, _raunchy_. Very graphic scenes ahead. Don't feel comfortable with them? Then don't read.

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**Golden**  
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The bar was dim, low florescent lights flickering. A smoky haze seemed to hang over the tables, making the air heavy. An old radio sputtered out Russian news but the bartender was listening with only half an ear. His hooded eyes were carefully watching the only two men in his bar.

One was sitting in a corner, his table littered with empty bottles, cigarette butts and a half-finished whiskey bottle. He is leaning back on his chair, his trembling fingers playing with a lighter, the flames illuminating his pockmarked face. Every time the flame burst into life, his gaze would flick to the only other patron in the tavern.

Standing in the back was a soldier. He appeared as a usual recruit, his uniform crisp and posture ridged, but upon closer inspection, the red band on his arm marked him as a German. His blond hair was slicked back, tucked under a black cap while his blue eyes kept checking to the clock above the radio. The hour hand was on the edge of the one while the minute hand slowly wound it's way towards the twelve.

As the hour struck, the door to the bar swung open. Chilled winds tore in from the roaring blizzard outside, carrying biting flakes of snow. A hulking figure bowed inside, closing the door behind him. The wind settled and the bartender slowly lowered his arm. The massive figure's lilac eyes moved over the bar, alighting on the soldier.

He strode forward, pulling his scarf down and revealing a smiling face. The soldier was trembling slightly, his hands clenching and unclenching nervously. As the large man walked by, he could smell the bitter vodka that seemed to cling to the pale skin. He suppressed a cough.

Ivan pushed the back door open. Ludwig made to follow him but a gloved hand found his chest, halting him.

"You must be patient, yes?" Russia said. He lifted his hand and gently pulled the cap off Germany's head.

Ludwig swallowed, glancing at the clock again, then nodded. "Five minutes." He said quietly, eyes flicking to the bartender who had stopped cleaning his glass, leaning his head in the direction of the two men, "That's it."

Ivan smiled, pulling the black hat over his head. "I will be ready." He slid into the room, closing the door behind him.

The minutes passed slowly. The blemished man in the corner had fallen onto his table, snoring loudly, his lighter sitting in his limp hand. Apparently giving up on hearing more, the bartender fiddled with the radio, cursing under his breath. Static buzzed through the air, barely audible above the wails of the squall.

Ludwig's hand shook as he placed his hand on the door. The dim light of the bar spilled into the room, illuminating the plain wooden floor. Blank walls greeted his wandering gaze as he stepped inside, easing the door shut.

An eerie red light filled the room, he looked for it's source but the shadows in the corner moved. He tensed, hand slowly moving towards his holster. Figures the Russian would pull this stunt in the middle of the night in some remote bar. Diplomatic meeting his ass.

"There is no need to be afraid." Ivan emerged form the darkness. His coat and shirt were strewn over the floor, leaving his chest exposed. Suspenders were stretched over his shoulders as he ran gloved hands over them. On his head was Germany's cap, tilted so his eyes were barely visible. "I won't hurt you."

Ludwig tried to swallow but a lump was growing in his throat. "Wasn't this supposed to be a meeting?"

"Always business with you." He said, walking towards Germany, "Don't you ever have a little-" He paused, hand pressing against Ludwig's crotch, "-fun?"

The German backed away quickly, face turning a deep shade of red. "I have standards."

Ivan's chuckle made his skin prickle. "That little shrimp of a man? Italy… he is your 'standard' as you say?" He advanced on the officer. "Do you keep him around for the sex? I can't blame you, he reminds me of my Lithuania. Small, delicate, so fragile as though you could break him if you pushed too hard?"

Ludwig's back contacted the wall. He scrabbled for the doorknob but Ivan's hand closed around his wrist while the other reached up to trace his jawline. "Get off me." He said, twitching his face away from the fingers. The smell of vodka was overpowering.

The warm body only leaned in closer. "He is delicate, your little Italy? But you want something…" he searched for the word, "Tougher, no? Someone you can make scream. Someone you can whip? Someone you can break." He stressed the last word, his grinning mouth hovering above Germany's.

Ludwig closed the distance between them. Ivan chuckled darkly, opening his mouth to let Germany's tongue move against his. The hands that had been pinning now moved upwards, undoing the dark uniform and gently tugging it off the broad shoulders.

The undershirt was already damp with sweat as Ludwig flipped himself around so now he was pushing Russia against the wall. His hands snaked down the suspenders, letting them snap back against the bare skin.

Ivan yelped softly. Germany took the advantage, pressing their mouths and bodies even closer. Just as his finger toyed with the pants, his partner froze.

Ludwig pulled back, breathing heavily. "What?" Large hands grabbed his upper arms, throwing him to the ground. His head hit the wood, making the crimson world flicker.

Ivan's grinning face swam into view. "Nice try." He said, knees on either side of the soldier's chest. "But everything has a price."

Scowling, Ludwig pulled his legs back, catching Ivan in the chest and kicking him off. He clambered on top of the bigger man, panting. "A price? You call me here just so you can assault me, then expect me to pay for it!?"

Violet eyes blinked innocently up at him. Growling, He got to his feet and strode to the door, picking up his jacket as he went. His face was burning with humiliation and a dozen other emotions. He had been warned of Ivan's techniques numerous times and he still fell for them.

"Wait…" His hand gripped the handle. An old Russian folk song snaked through the crack at the bottom of the door. His listened for a moment.

Maybe this was a mistake. Mistakes could be forgiven. He needed this non-aggression pact but he knew Ivan needed it more. Breathing in, his hand released the doorknob.

Ivan was crawling towards him, tongue running along his swollen lips.

Maybe not a mistake…

Germany carefully pulled his glove off and offered his hand. The burning feeling in his gut, the stench of the bitter drink and the pure sensuality in the other man's stare were overwhelming all common sense

Crawling forward, his purple eyes locked with Germany's, Ivan's mouth slid over the fingers. He lapped at them, tongue playing with the tough skin. The tremors running through Germany made his fingers twitch. Ivan bit down, smiling. He sucked, moving his mouth up and down the long fingers until Ludwig tore his hand away, moaning softly.

Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, Ivan watched Germany reach into his back pocket, pulling out a wad of bills. "Will this be enough?" he breathed, his voice strained.

Ivan nodded. Carefully, his teeth closed around the tip of his finger, pulling the glove off. Germany watched, clearly impatient but too absorbed to tell him to hurry up. The second glove was off and the suspender slid down and Ivan's violet eyes blinked up at Ludwig, inviting him.

The money was tossed aside, fluttering to the ground as Ludwig climbed onto of him, his mouth hard and wanting. Ivan didn't notice; the fingers digging into his hips were more painful than the teeth biting his lips.

He slide the pants down, letting his hand explore the inside of Ivan's thighs. The Russian's hips bucked as Ludwig's hand ghosted over his cock. Taking the hint, he gripped the length, slowly pumping up and down. Ivan groaned into his mouth, shivers of ecstasy running through his frame.

Pre-cum dribbled onto Germany's hand and pulled away, leaving Ivan still panting, that far from his climax. Ignoring the pleading hum, he moved his fingers downward and pushed into the tight entrance

Ivan whined, back arching against Germany's invading finger. His hands curled into fists, pulling the German even closer to him. Ludwig leaned forward, nipping at the exposed neck, leaving an angry red trail.

"Relax." He hissed into Ivan's ear. "Or I will hurt you." His second finger pushed in, slowly scissoring the entrance. The bigger man moaned, grinding his hips into Ludwig's bulging pants. Letting him fall to the ground, Germany proceeded to remove the offending article and positioned himself between Russia's legs.

He thrust, his fingers gripping so tightly that Russia could feel his skin bruising. Whimpering, he grabbed Ludwig's shoulders, trying to contain his screams. Germany only pushed harder, determined to get the Russian to cry his name. "Say it." He gasped, driving into him.

Ivan's fingers curled around the shoulders and his breath came out a hiss. "Never."

Ludwig forced him to the ground, biting his nipples while pushing harder and faster. His hands snaked up the thighs, clutching Ivan's erection and pumping it in time with his thrusts. Russia's voice was breathless and his hands scrabbled at Ludwig's chest. "I-I'm going to…"

Teeth clamped down on his chest, cutting him off. A tongue swirled around the erect skin, Ludwig's hips slammed into his and the hand still roughly pumped him. "Please! I'm going to come!"

Everything paused for one moment. The thrusting, biting and jerking all came to a halt as the blue eyes glared at him. "Say it." Ivan squirmed under him, the fire in every inch of him, begging to be released. Ludwig held him still, blue eyes boring into him.

"Ludwig!" He cried, moaning and squeezing his eyes shut as the room swam before them.

Hands gripped his hips and pulled him onto the German. Whiteness exploded behind his closed eyes and he threw his head back, as a jolt of pleasure coursing through him. He collapsed against Germany, hands pulling him closer. "Ludwig…Ludwig…" he whispered over and over again, fighting for breath.

The sleek blond hair was messy and sweat shone on the muscled skin. His breath hitched and he pushed Ivan off of his legs. Trembling, Ludwig got to his feet, a hand clasped over his mouth. He backed away, his eyes wide with shock. "That didn't happen…" he breathed, "Not with you…"

A soft melody issued from beneath the door. The woman singing sounded mournful as her voice eased through the music.

"You can't go back to him." The voice was low and dangerous, no longer breathless. Standing, Ivan took one step towards Ludwig, stretching out his hand. "Never. You will become one with me."

"No."

Violet eyes narrowed and his smiled became strained. "It's too late. You are mine." He chuckled darkly, letting it slowly build.

The door flew open and Ludwig fled the bar into the dark, cold night. Icy winds tore at his exposed flesh as he ran blindly through the whiteness. Would he be forgiven? He knew mistakes could be made, but this would be impossible to forgive, even for the Italian. A cry escaped from his lips as he fell to his knees.

All around him, the laughter echoed.

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**Author's Note**

What can I say? I love smut~

I also listen to the most pompous classical music when I write slash. No idea why.


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